


The Perfect Game

by coolbyrne



Category: Rizzoli & Isles
Genre: Gen, Rizzoli & Isles |, fan fiction
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-01
Updated: 2015-03-01
Packaged: 2018-03-15 20:21:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,878
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3460709
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/coolbyrne/pseuds/coolbyrne
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“We’re going to a baseball game but we’re not going to Fenway?”</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Perfect Game

TITLE: The Perfect Game

AUTHOR: coolbyrne

RATING: K

SUMMARY: “We’re going to a baseball game but we’re not going to Fenway?”

“Maura, you’re not ready for Fenway.”

A/N: This was written as a request by someone who wanted a Maura/Jane story strictly as friends, without the sexual tension, and this seemed to fit. I often spend more time researching than writing, and this is one of those stories. I love making real references, without it becoming product placement or name dropping. I have one later on that is about womens’ baseball in the ’50s that required a lot of research. This one, not so much, but the places and teams are all real.Thanks to my beta reader, happycamper5, who helped me decide if it should be “The” or “A”. (These are the things that take up my time!) Who also prevented me from giving it any kind of baseball double-entendre name. (“Switch Hitter”, “Touch ‘Em All” and “Back Door Slider” were all rightly vetoed.) Also note: the Lowell Spinners really do exist, but I took some artistic licence with their inception.

…..

The door opened and Jane stopped dead in her tracks.

“What’s all this?” she asked with some hesitance as she looked Maura up and down.

The doctor gave herself a once over and practically burst with glee. “I’m ready for the ballgame!” she exclaimed. “Did you know the Red Sox have three different coloured jerseys? I couldn’t decide so I bought all three.” She looked down again. “I prefer the white, but do you think the blue one would look better?”

Jane couldn’t help but smile. “The white one is fine. At least you didn’t get a pink one.”

“Why would I get a pink one?” Maura frowned. “The standard colours of the Red Sox have always been white, red or blue. Though I suppose it does sound funny for a team called the ‘Red Sox’ to have a uniform that’s blue.”

“They think women will buy more jerseys if…” she shook her head. “Doesn’t matter. You got a new cap, too!”

“I did!”

“Can I see it?”

Maura happily handed over the cap. “The salesman wanted me to get an adjustable hat, but I was really going for the authentic look. He was very helpful, despite having to special-order that one.”

Jane looked inside the liner. “No wonder. How do you fit your big brain into a 6 7/8 cap?” She didn’t wait for a response, and much to Maura’s horror, proceeded to aggressively roll the brim.

“What- what are you doing?” she stuttered. “That was a pristine hat!”

“Cap, Maura. It’s a baseball cap. And you’re right, it was pristine.” She paused for effect. “That’s the problem.” She passed the manhandled cap back to Maura and sighed. “Look, I appreciate you getting all decked out to go to the game. I love that you’re so excited about it.” She smiled to make sure the blonde believed her. “But it’s just an afternoon with a friend. We just so happen to be going to a ballgame. I don’t care about all this,” she gestured towards Maura’s attire. “I just care about spending the afternoon with you.”

Maura tilted her head and smiled. “Aw, that’s so sweet.”

“Yeah, whatever,” she replied gruffly, the twitch at the corner of her mouth betraying her tone.

“Okay, let me grab my glove.”

As Maura darted into the living room, Jane shook her head in defeat. “Of course you got a new glove.”

With glove on hand, Maura bounded back to the door. Punching the leather palm, she quipped, “I’m ready to go. Take me out to the ballgame!”

Jane groaned.

…..

They were 10 minutes into their drive when Maura looked around. “You missed the turn to Fenway.”

“Yep,” was all Jane said.

“Are we taking the long way?”

“Nope.”

“Can you give me more than one-syllable responses?”

Jane was tempted to give a short reply, but relented. “We’re not going to Fenway.”

Maura’s brow furrowed. “I don’t understand. We’re going to a baseball game but we’re not going to Fenway?”

“Nope.” Before the blonde had a chance to retort, Jane quickly added, “Maura, you’re not ready for Fenway.”

She looked down at her clothing. “I’m not sure how more ready I could be, Jane.”

The brunette shook her head. “No, I mean, you’re not ready for Fenway.” She pulled up to a red light and tried to explain. “It’d be like me trying to play Rachmaninoff when I can’t even play ‘Für Elise’.” She saw Maura’s response and smirked. “What? I played piano, remember?” The light turned and they were on their way again. “Anyway, you’re not ready for Fenway.”

“But, I am!” Maura protested. “I know all the stats of the current roster. I know the dimensions of the field. I know the first game at Fenway was played on April 20th, 1912. What more do I need to know, Jane?”

“Do you know what it feels like to have a bag of warm peanuts in your hands?” Jane asked. Maura pulled her head back, confused at the question, but Jane continued. “To have a conversation with the first baseman between batters? To hear the umpire bark out strike three?”

“I’m not sure how these things relate to Fenway.”

“They don’t,” she replied, “but they relate to baseball. And that’s where you gotta start.”

…..

The rest of the drive was comfortably quiet, and on more than one occasion, Jane couldn’t help but reach over and squeeze Maura’s arm. She knew the blonde was replaying their conversation in her mind, attempting to find some logical result to what Jane presented as an ambiguous premise. Jane watched as her lips silently moved, as if she seemed to be asking herself, ‘How am I not ready?’

“Don’t hurt your brain thinking about it, Poindexter,” Jane teased as they pulled up to their destination.

Ignoring the jibe, Maura glanced at their surroundings. “We’re in Lowell,” she remarked, identifying their stop. “Wait. We’re in Lowell?”

“Yep,” Jane answered and opened the car door. “C’mon, everybody out.”

Maura obeyed, though her confusion remained. “What are we doing here?”

With her head in the back seat, Jane’s response was muffled. “Who are the Lowell Spinners, Alex?” She stepped back from the car and looked at Maura over the roof with a smile.

“Is this a reference to Jeopardy?” Maura asked. “And I’m not sure. Who are the Lowell Spinners, Jane?”

The brunette walked around the car and handed Maura a bag. “There was one good thing about me wearing your dress – I got an idea of your size.”

The memory of their one-time clothes-swapping adventure made Maura smile. “What is it?” she asked as she peered into the bag.

Jane rolled her eyes. “Why don’t you have a look and find out?”

“It’s…” she held out the gift, “it’s a Lowell Spinners jersey.” Her comment was both a statement and a question.

“The Lowell Spinners. Single A minor league team for the Boston Red Sox. Founded in 1971. That’s all you need to know, Google.” Jane opened the passenger door and grabbed her own jersey.

Maura slipped off the Red Sox jersey and buttoned up her new one. “My first clue should have been the fact you’re not wearing a Red Sox shirt.”

Jane winked. “That’s why I’m the detective. Where’s your glove?”

Maura reached in to the passenger seat. “Here.”

“Can I see it?”

“You must be crazy if you think I’m going to fall for that again.”

Jane laughed and held out her hands. “I won’t bend it or break it. Trust me.”

Despite her better judgment, Maura cautiously handed over the glove. Jane scrutinized it and nodded, as if admiring the craftmanship. After several seconds of this play-acting, she threw it in the back seat of the car.

“Hey!” Maura protested. “I knew it!”

“Hold your horses, Annie Oakley,” Jane said and pulled out another gift. “Now, this isn’t new, but it seemed appropriate to give to you.”

Maura glanced down at the offering in Jane’s hand. “It’s an old glove.”

She brought her hand up to her chest. “You’re breaking my heart here,” she told her. “This is the glove I had until I was 13. I cried for days when I had to get a new one.” She saw Maura’s raised eyebrow. “It took me 7 years to break that baby in! I had to get a new one because my hands got bigger. That one should fit you, Ms. Dainty.”

Maura pushed out her bottom lip at the name. Looking at the glove, she wrinkled her nose, inadvertantly confirming the label. “It’s dirty.”

Jane sighed. “Yeah, all gloves start out nice and shiny and they smell great. But they’re stiff and you can’t catch a ball worth shit with them. You gotta loosen it, make it an extension of your hand, work it in. Pop put a baseball in the pocket, tied it up, then ran over it a few times with the van.” She saw Maura’s eyes widen in horror and laughed. “That right there is 30 years of my life, 7 of them coming to this park.”

This piece of Jane, both literally and figuratively, spoke volumes. Clutching the glove to her heart, Maura said, “Thank you, Jane.”

“Yeah, well, it doesn’t fit me anymore, and TJ’s not going to be able to use it for a while, so…”

Looping her arm through Jane’s, Maura simply smiled. “Am I ready for baseball now?”

Jane nodded. “You’re ready.”

…..

“There aren’t a lot of people here,” Maura noted.

Jane paid for the tickets and the two women walked up to the gates. “Game time is 7, but I wanted to get us here early. Gotta take advantage of the theme night.”

“Oh!” Maura said. “Should we have dressed up?”

The gentleman at the gate took their tickets and handed each of them a plastic bag. “Enjoy the game, ladies.”

“Thanks,” Jane replied as she ushered Maura into the concourse. “No,” she said to Maura. “It’s not that kind of theme night.”

They stepped off to the side, out of the way of other fans, and Maura glanced into her bag. Pulling out a small figure, she held it up and scrutinized it. “Jane?”

“It’s a bobble head toothbrush holder. Free to the first 1000 fans!”

Maura’s gaze never wavered from the figure in her hand. “What do I do with it?”

Jane shrugged. “You put your toothbrush in it.” She tapped it and watched Maura’s face light up as the head bobbled back and forth. “Let’s go. It’s ‘All-You-Can-Eat’ in the Gator Pit.” She tried not to laugh when she saw the smile replaced with horror.

…..

The two women took their seats behind the home team dugout and Maura marvelled at the view. Jane, on the other hand, marvelled at the woman sitting next to her. Maura felt the gaze and turned her head.

“What is it?”

“Nothing,” Jane smiled. “I am just so damn proud of you!”

Maura’s head tilted down to cover her blush. “I have to admit, the gentleman who cooked the ribs had the smoking technique down to a science. It was a perfect balance of hickory and apple.”

“You went through so many racks of ribs, the two guys at the end of the table were looking at you in awe,” Jane beamed.

“I wanted you to get your money’s worth.”

“Uh-huh. You just can’t admit that you enjoyed it.”

“No, you know something? I can admit it.” She sat up straighter and pulled her shoulders back. “I enjoyed it. The food, the neanderthal consumption of it, the mess, the entire thing. I. Enjoyed. It.”

Jane threw her head back and laughed. “I think we have a break-through.”

Maura rested her forehead on Jane’s shoulder and shared in the mirth. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. Oh! I forgot something.” Jane stood. “Stay here, I’ll be right back.”

True to her word, she was back within a matter of minutes, and reclaimed her spot beside Maura. She handed a book and a pen to her friend and opened her own book.

“This is the baseball score sheet,” she began. “They have these printed up the day before, but I heard a guy at the beer stand say the third baseman got injured in practice this morning. You’ll have to change the name of the number 5 player there,” she pointed to the line on the score sheet.”

Maura looked down at the paper. “I’m not sure what to do with this.”

“It’s the team line-up,” Jane explained. “You mark the play while the batter’s up. Mark the balls there and the strikes there,” she pointed to the small boxes. “I’ll show you how to mark strike outs and base hits when the game starts.”

“You’ve done this many times,” Maura remarked.

“Pop brought us here every other weekend. He couldn’t afford Fenway. Frankie and Tommy ran around the place like crazy, but I sat with him and filled these out. It’s how I learned the game.”

“And it’s how you’re going to teach me.”

Jane nodded. “It’s how I’m going to teach you. And if I can find the peanut guy, I’m gonna teach you the joys of shelling your own peanuts.”

…..

“Lady, you’ve been ridin’ my ass all game!” the first baseman yelled at Jane during the between innings throwaround. With a lift of his cap, he shouted, “Wanna go out later?”

“If you kept your eye on the ball, I wouldn’t be on your ass!” she threw back. “And I gotta date!” She put her arm around Maura’s shoulder.

“That’s not gonna help me keep my eye on the ball!” he grinned.

“Is this normal? Yelling at players?” Maura asked her. Seeing Jane’s questioning look, she clarified, “I mean, I’ve seen people yelling at players all the time. I don’t recall ever seeing one yell back.”

Jane smiled. “It’s the bonus of coming to a ground that only sits 5000 fans. Everybody can hear everybody.”

“It’s very visceral,” Maura beamed.

“So you’re having a good time?”

“Yes!”

Her enthusiam was infectious and Jane beamed along with her. “You look like you got the hang of the score sheet, too.”

Maura frowned, unimpressed with her paper. “I’m not sure. All these letters and numbers to remember. It looks like a foreign language.”

“It is. It’s the language of baseball.” Jane smiled and asked, “But do you see the logic in it?”

“Oh yes,” Maura answered. “Once I know the code, it makes perfect sense.”

“And that’s the beauty of the game, Maura. Remember how you said the guy at the Gator Pit had the perfect balance of hickory and apple? That’s baseball. The perfect blend of stats and feelings.”

“I think I’m starting to understand. It’s the experience.” Maura hugged Jane’s arm close and rested her head on her shoulder. “I’m glad I’m sharing it with you.”

“Hey, game on, ladies!” the first baseman shouted.

“Watch the ball, not us!” Maura yelled back and quickly covered her mouth. “Oh!”

…..

The walk to the car was quiet but charged with happiness. Jane had teased Maura about her off-key rendition of ‘Take Me Out to the Ballgame’ and the first baseman had come over after the game to give Jane a ball. When the brunette informed him that it had been Maura’s first game, he called out some of his teammates and they signed her jersey. She was like a kid in a candy shop.

“You’re practically skipping,” Jane said.

“I know!” she confessed without shame. “I had such a great time. Can we come back again?”

Jane glanced down at Maura’s tug on her arm and laughed. “Well, if you’re good and do all  your homework and go to bed when you’re supposed to, maybe we can come back.”

Maura smiled. “Is that what your father said to you?”

“Every other weekend. I’d be good for the first couple of days, be a hellion for about a week, then be super sweet and good for the two days leading up to the game. I thought I was pulling a fast one on Pop. Now I think he would have taken us anyway.”

“I wish I had had some kind of tradition like that with my parents,” Maura said.

“Yeah, well it’s not too late to start new ones.”

Maura hopped in delight. “We’re coming back! We’re coming back!”

“I’ve created a monster.”

They reached the car and Jane opened the passenger door. Turning back to Maura, something caught the brunette’s eye. Peering closer, she smirked. “You really enjoyed those ribs, huh?”

“They were quite delicious. Why?”

“Because you have some sauce. Right there.” Jane pointed at a spot on Maura’s front.

“Oh, no!” the blonde lamented. I got this signed and everything.” She looked down to see the offending stain, and jerked her head back sharply when Jane’s finger flicked her nose. “Hey!”

Jane leaned against the car and laughed. “I’m guessing you’ve never had anyone do that?”

“No,” Maura answered with a wrinkle of her nose.

“Seems like the perfect ending to a perfect day. C’mon. I want to see if there’s still an ice cream place on the way back.”

…..end.


End file.
